


The Epic Saga of Chicken

by Blue_Sparkle, Hobbitfing, InjaMorgan, kailthia



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crack, M/M, chicken POV, it's funny, shhh just click it, such wonderful crack, this is the silliest story I've ever written, well all three of us rather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:24:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbitfing/pseuds/Hobbitfing, https://archiveofourown.org/users/InjaMorgan/pseuds/InjaMorgan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kailthia/pseuds/kailthia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This all started with an half remembered quote from Jed Brophy about Nori stealing Dwalin's chicken. Then Blue_Sparkle added that the chicken must have been Dwalin's pet, and then something short-circuited in my brain...</p><p>Come in and read about the awesome adventures of Chicken, the bestest chicken in the world!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Origins - Inja

**Author's Note:**

> The first part was written by me, InjaMorgan, and after posting it on tumblr it all went a little ... crazy... Also, Hobbitfing was kind enough to write us a prequel (chapter 7).

Chicken was happy.

Chicken had food, a sunny spot close to the window during the day, and a warm spot close to the fire that Master made in the room when the sun was gone. Chicken was even cuddled sometimes by Master, and told that it was a good Chicken, keeping such a good watch. Because Chicken loved Master, it let nobody else enter the room. Not even Master’s brother was allowed to touch Master’s things, unless Master held Chicken close and scratched just the right spot on Chicken’s head.

This evening, Master had given Chicken extra food, and scratched the good spot before going to sleep, and all the good corn had made Chicken sleepy, so it only realised that someone new was in the room when Chicken was suddenly jolted from sleep as somebody tripped over it. In the little light that the coals of the fire gave out, Chicken saw a shadow lying in front of it. Just before Chicken could decide to attack or not, it saw something _strange_ on the shadow.

Chicken was used to his Master’s kin having long feathers sprouting from their heads, but he’d never seen feathers that looked like _that_. They were so fluffy! And it reminded Chicken of a coxcomb, all standing up like that. So instead of using its sharp claws to scratch out the intruders’s eyes, Chicken picked tentatively at the fluffy feathers. Sadly, the intruder sat up, staring at Chicken.

"Hello."

Chicken was used to Master’s kin sometimes talking to it, but right now, it wanted to know _how_ the intruder made his feathers stand up like that. Did he use mud? No, he smelled of soap and sweat, like the rest of Master’s kin. Maybe spit? Chicken tried to flutter onto the person’s shoulder, but he grabbed it, gently, before Chicken could reach the head feathers.

"Shh, don’t…"

Chicken heard Master groan in the bed. It was actually a little puzzled about how he could sleep through the intruder falling over it, making so much noise. The intruder froze, while Chicken still wriggled, trying to stretch its wings, the mystery of the head feathers unforgotten. Master groaned again, turning on the bed.

“Oh, for Mahal’s sake…” the intruder whispered, and climbed out of the window, Chicken still firmly under his arm. Chicken clucked quietly, thinking about how well Master had cared for it, but then Chicken remembered that his new Master had those really fluffy feathers and that he would be a good Master, too.

  



	2. The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chicken settles in at the home of the sons of Ari.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part was written by [kailthia ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kailthia) <3

Dori had mixed feelings about the chicken - or as Ori called him, Mister Cluck.

One the one hand, Dori knew (even if Nori didn’t _know_ that he knew) that the chicken was, in fact, the prize pet-slash-guard-chicken belonging to Dwalin son of Fundin. If said son of Fundin ever discovered that the chicken was in the possession of the sons of Ari, there would be a truly phenomenal amount of trouble. The chicken ate an enormous amount of feed, and would not keep to doing its business in the designated box. To add insult to injury, whenever Dori picked it up, it tried to peck off his braids.

On the other side of the coin, young Ori (only thirty years old, and cute as a button) was quite fond of the chicken, who often deigned to accept Ori’s affection. And watching the chicken with Nori was a joy. Nori _loved_ that chicken, and it clearly loved him back. Whenever Nori was home - and he made an effort to be home more often now - he and Mister Cluck were inseparable. The chicken would be found roosting on Nori’s head almost as soon as he came in the window (or occasionally the roof or up from the basement), and slept in Nori’s bed.

Dori sighed as he picked a feather from his tea. The eventual day of reckoning would be … interesting.


	3. The Spectator - Sparkle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is smut to be found, done by [Blue_Sparkle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle) :D

Chicken was happy.

The new Master and his kin were kind, and they loved it. They had food that was just as good as old Master’s, maybe even better. The little one of new Master’s kin always sneaking more to Chicken, and the round one always preened Chicken’s feathers.

Chicken missed old Master, but new Master had the softest head-feathers, and let Chicken sit in them, and held it and talked to it and let it sleep on the pillows next to his, which old Master had never done, even if Chicken hadn’t tried. New Master even found the best scratching spot behind Chicken’s ear and always scratched it.

It was good and nice and Chicken didn’t have anything to complain about, apart from never seeing old Master.

Until one night, when only new Master was at home. There was a crash from the front entrance to the house, and Chicken had been sleepy but it recognized old Master’s heavy steps.

New Master looked upset and he picked Chicken up to cuddle, and then old Master was there, and he was getting loud at new Master and getting angry. Chicken missed him and wanted cuddles from him as well, but now when old Master was being loud so close to bedtime. So Chicken just stayed in new Master’s arms.

New Master was trying to speak, then he was yelling too and both were getting angry and Chicken was fed up enough to pick at new Master’s fingers and flutter down to the ground where it was quieter, and waited for the Masters to quiet down. Sometimes their kin did that, and there was no use to do anything but wait.

They yelled, then new Master said something, very very quietly, and old Master stopped. There was a nice silence, and then the Masters laughed and held each other, and that was good, Chicken knew as much. Chicken had seen the holding before, it was nothing new and meant peace and cuddles for it later. Chicken paid this no mind.

Then old Master said something too quiet for Chicken to hear and both of them lay down on the bed, old Master over the new, and Chicken still didn’t care. Holding on the bed was not much different.

But then there were noises, not the angry ones that always were bad, but something new.

New Master was making sharp little noises, moaning ‘Dwalin, Dwalin-‘ and old Master was groaning, and pulling at new Master’s head-feathers in a way that couldn’t be good at all.

Chicken raised its head, perplexed. It had never seen that happening before, but the noises all were similar to things that weren’t good, so this was worrying as well.

Chicken was a good chicken, and it would never let either of its Masters be in pain without trying to help, so it spread its wings and fluttered onto the bed to investigate.

New Master was still making that noise, and old Master was pulling at the pretty feathers in a way that would Chicken get angry if he had tried it with its _own_ feathers.

Chicken clucked in worry and picked at old Master’s fingers, hoping he would stop for a bit, to check what other Master was doing.

Old Master startled and new Master made a small yelp, glancing up with wide eyes. Both were watching Chicken quietly, and Chicken clucked to let them know that everything was ok. Then old Master started to laugh and new Master groaned and covered his face.

“Damn beast!”

“I thought you loved Chicken?”

Chicken looked at between them, wondering why they were talking about it.

“I love it, but not now! Dwalin, do… something!”

Old Master laughed again and picked Chicken up, walking out of the room. Chicken still worried for new Master but then it got those nice scratches behind its ear and it let the Master do what he wanted.

In the kitchen old Master petted it once, put a bowl of the best food on the floor and smiled.

“Wait here, we’ll fetch you later.”

And then he was gone, and Chicken trusted the old Master to be nice now. Of course he was, Chicken could trust old Master to be good to new Master, it would not have to intervene. And the food was more interesting anyway.


	4. The Mistake - kailthia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the last part - for the moment - again written by [kailthia ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kailthia) :3

Chicken had just finished his feed and was debating the relative merits of going to his water bowl versus his rarely-used bed in the kitchen when new Master’s brothers came back from the meeting with a potential teacher for new Master’s younger brother. Chicken clucked happily, and allowed the younger brother’s petting with long-suffering fortitude; as much as new Master tried to help the younger, the younger still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of the perfect chicken-pet.

Chicken made a happy noise when master’s older brother told the younger to go and drop Chicken off in Master room. Master’s older brother seemed to think that Master was out and had let Chicken have the run of the house. While the lights were off in Master’s room, Chicken knew that both Masters were still there. Chicken hoped that the Masters were done whatever they were doing that made old Master take Chicken into the kitchen.

Master’s little brother grabbed Chicken and,holding him securely, went to Master’s room and opened the door.

As Chicken scrambled to get out from under Master’s little brother as he fainted, he thought that perhaps Master’s little brother might have learned a lesson in knowing when to knock, as both Masters were clearly not done with their strange activities.


	5. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, so Sparkle came up with this and I was like ... well. http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/post/92171703873/becausebirds-i-love-commercials-with-birds#notes

Chicken was dirty.

Fíli and Kíli had for some reason decided that it was a good idea to give Chicken strawberries in order to sneak into Dwalin and Nori’s quarters. This had – of course – ended in their capture, with Fíli’s hands on Nori’s most obvious knife cache while Kíli kept watch. It also ended with Chicken being simply covered in strawberry juices and seeds, staining the white portion of his feathers a bright red. And while Chicken was normally very clean, no dust bath would be able to get out all the strawberry remains.

            So while the royal nephews were taken off by their uncle to submit to their mother’s ungentle reward for their behavior (they were already gibbering in terror, and they weren’t even down the hall yet), Dwalin and Nori set up what Ori had named the ‘chicken-cleaner extravaganza’ – several basins, toweling, and a variety of scrub brushes.

Nori held Chicken carefully as he dunked him in the basin of soapy water. Dwalin began very carefully scrubbing off the strawberry goop, making sure that he didn’t jostle Chicken or rip out any feathers by accident. Chicken, lulled by the warm water and the washing motions, soon began dozing off.

The bath proper took perhaps half an hour, after which Nori dunked Chicken in the last basin of clean water to ensure no soap clogged up his feathers, and then placed him on the kitchen table. Dwalin, who had been waiting with a towel, began softly drying Chicken’s feathers. Once Chicken was mostly dry, Dwalin picked him up and walked towards the bathing room. Once there, Dwalin placed Chicken in front of the hot-air vent to complete the drying process.

Ered Luin, though dilapidated, was a Dwarven city, and had several layers of natural and non-natural items running through it. Pipes and natural shafts carried messages and various temperatures of water and air throughout the mountain city. The system had had to be repaired after the arrival of Durin’s Folk, but it was workable. So Chicken strutted before the low stream of hot air from the vent, happily cooing as his feathers fluffed. Dwalin and Nori smiled to see Chicken clean and so obviously satisfied. Though the hot-air vent did tend to have that effect – Nori favored using it to dry his hair in a similar fashion.

Once Chicken was fully returned to his previous happy and clean state, Nori and Dwalin began plotting their revenge on Fíli and Kíli – this slight, however cute the results, must not be left unavenged.    


	6. Portrait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's portrait day for Nori, Dwalin, and Chicken.

It was portrait day for Dwalin and Nori – and Chicken.

Bilbo had sent a letter saying that he was writing a book about the Quest to retake Erebor, and would Ori be kind enough to send him some pictures; mostly the various surviving members of the Company, a few shots of the Mountain (such as the Gate, an idealized – read fake – concept of the hidden door & key), and some other things and persons associated with the Quest, like the royal crown and the ravens.

Chicken had come to Erebor several months ago with Lady Dis, who had been taking care of him in Ered Luin for the duration of the Quest. So, when Ori had come to Dwalin and Nori asking to draw them, they had insisted that the little scribe include Chicken in their portrait. Ori had agreed, though he wondered loudly what the Shirefolk would think of Chicken when they read the book.

Dwalin was in his formal armour, shined to perfection, looking carved from stone with his knuckledusters and axes, hair braided in a warrior’s tight style. He had his warhammer in one hand, with the other arm over Nori’s far shoulder. Nori was in Court dress – all danger and poise, brown with green accents to match Dwalin’s green with brown. Ori had to maneuver the couple carefully so that Nori’s elaborate hairstyle didn’t block any important part of Dwalin for the portrait. On Nori’s shoulder – right between Nori and Dwalin’s head – stood Chicken, squeaky clean, red coxcomb standing tall, resplendent in the little set of chain jewelry that Dwalin had made for him out of silver and rubies and diamonds.

The portrait was lovely, no matter what Ori said and no matter how Dori sighed.


	7. Dawn of the Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've had this floating around in my head for a while and I finally got around to writing it--how Dwalin got Chicken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Blue_Sparkle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/pseuds/Blue_Sparkle), [InjaMorgan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InjaMorgan/pseuds/InjaMorgan) and [kailthia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kailthia/pseuds/kailthia) for letting me add to the Epic Saga!

“No, please, I don’t want…” Dwalin had been saying the same thing for what felt like hours, though sometimes the words came out in a different order. “It was one orc. You could’ve taken care of it yourself. Well, maybe not you, but…”

The old woman persisted, thrusting the flapping, scrabbling, frantic chicken at him. 

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” he said, slowly, as though that would make any difference. She clearly couldn’t understand him, either. 

She spoke again, and her tone was insistent. 

Her language, Dwalin thought, sounded exactly like a cackling chicken. He was starting to feel giddy from the heat and the ridiculous situation, but he was determined to try one more time. “Really, I don’t…I don’t need a chicken.” He sorely wished his brother were here. Balin would be able to convince the woman, whether he spoke her language or not. Though he would be laughing into his beard the whole time. Dwalin sighed, imagining Balin’s reaction when he returned to Ered Luin with a chicken. 

He leaned past the old woman, hoping someone else from the caravan would step forward and offer to translate. 

None of them would meet his eyes, and they were starting to look uncomfortable. 

“Fine. Give me…I’ll take the damn chicken.” He awkwardly held out his hands, the way he would to hold a babe, expecting to be spattered in chicken-shit in a matter of seconds.  


The old woman made a joyous—and very chicken-like—sound and passed the bird over. 

It was both heavier and lighter than Dwalin had expected, a solid, warm weight beneath thick, downy feathers. It didn’t shit on him, but made a soft bucking sound and pulled up its feet until they were perched on Dwalin’s fingers instead of hanging down. It tilted its head, then gently pecked one of the tattoos on the dwarf’s hand.  


Around him, the Men started moving again, preparing the caravan to move. The old woman walked back to her own cart and gave the ox pulling it a sharp slap on the neck, ignoring Dwalin completely, as though she hadn’t spent the past half hour trying to persuade him to take her livestock. 

Dwalin didn’t relish the thought of taking a live chicken home with him. Maybe he could sell it—or give it—to someone else in the caravan. When he looked up from the feathery bundle he was holding, he realized the wagons were already moving away, stirring up an oppressive cloud of dust that stung his eyes and made him cough. He moved to the side, hoping to avoid the worst of the cloud. He automatically covered the chicken’s head with one hand, shifting the animal’s body to the crook of one arm. He felt the bird gently pecking and exploring the covering hand with its beak. 

He wasn’t going to run after a caravan of Men to get rid of a chicken. 

A perfectly edible chicken, it occurred to him. 

He glanced down at the bird, which cocked its head and looked back up at him with surprisingly beautiful yellow eyes. 

“I should cook you and eat you,” he grumbled, his face flushing because he was talking to a chicken, even if there was no one around. “Save me a lot of trouble, and it’s been weeks since I had fresh meat.”

The chicken clucked softly and shifted its feathers, settling itself in Dwalin’s grip. 

The dwarf sighed. “This is stupid. This is damn stupid. I’ve hunted plenty, killed lots of birds…” He trailed off. “Damn it…Chicken…I can’t do it.” He had to call it something, seeing as he was apparently keeping it, and he’d never been terribly original when it came to names. As a child in Erebor, all his toy soldiers had been named for their weapons—Axe, Sword, Mace. 

The day wasn’t getting any cooler, and he supposed that if he was hot, the chicken must be too. “Let’s find some shade, then,” he said, knowing the chicken understood him even less than the old woman had. But it was nice to have someone to talk to, he could admit to himself. 

Dwalin and Chicken spent the heat of the day sheltered behind a large rock, shuffling occasionally to keep themselves in the shade. Chicken seemed content to stay close to Dwalin, pecking and scratching in the dirt, clucking softly to itself—or possibly to Dwalin. 

He leaned against the relatively cool stone, arms crossed over his lap, eyes shut. He checked on the chicken every few minutes, though he kept reminding himself he hadn’t wanted the bird in the first place and he didn’t care if it wandered off or got eaten by something. When he realized he wasn’t going to get any sleep, he set about making a carrying sling for the chicken. If he was keeping the thing—and apparently he was—he needed a better way to carry it. He needed his arms free in case of attack.  
After a few hours he decided it was time to eat, so he got some waybread and dried meat out of his pack. He brushed crumbs off his beard and clothes, watching Chicken hurry to peck them up. “What do chickens eat?” he asked the bright-eyed bird. 

In response, Chicken hopped onto Dwalin’s leg and boldly stole a piece of bread before running a short distance away to eat its prize.  
Dwalin laughed softly. “Well, it doesn’t seem like you’ll starve. Here, have some water.” He poured some into his cupped hand and offered it to the bird.  
Chicken cocked its head and examined Dwalin’s hand from many angles before catching some of the water in its beak. It drank, then filled its beak again. This time, it tossed its head back and threw water over itself, spraying Dwalin too. 

“Hey! We need that water!” Dwalin tossed the rest of his handful at the bird. 

Chicken shook itself, fluttering more drops onto Dwalin and the dry ground. It scratched furiously until it had dug a shallow depression, then had a dust bath.  
“Well, at least you’re entertaining.”

As the sun set and the day finally began to cool, Dwalin gathered Chicken, carefully wrapped the bird in the sling he’d made, and continued his journey west. 

***

“Balin! I’m home!” Dwalin clumped his way into the small apartment he shared with his brother. “I see more spiders have moved in while I was gone.” He swiped a few cobwebs from a corner, shaking his head. Balin probably wouldn’t notice dust or cobwebs until they were actually on him. “I hope you’ve been eating while I was away.”  
“Reading,” his brother called back, sounding irritated at the interruption. 

Dwalin snorted. “There’s a surprise.” He went into Balin’s study, having to push aside several piles of books to get through the narrow hallway. 

Balin glanced up from his book. “Good evening, brother,” he said, his tone making it clear he was busy. 

“I’ll just get us some dinner, shall I?”

Balin gave an affirmative grunt. 

Chicken clucked. 

Balin looked up, startled. “Are you…feeling all right?”

“I’m a bit tired and definitely ready for some real food…”

“You made a strange noise.”

“When?”

“Just now.”

“I didn’t.”

Chicken clucked again. 

“Ah ha! You just did it again!” Balin pointed one black-gloved finger triumphantly. 

“That…wasn’t me. It must’ve come from outside or something.” Dwalin felt his cheeks go hot. He knew he would probably have to tell Balin about Chicken eventually, but he was still reluctant to admit he’d carried a live chicken all the way home. 

“It sounded like a chicken, now that I think about it.” Balin stroked his beard thoughtfully, watching his brother. He was beginning to suspect what his brother was hiding.  
“A chicken? Why would—”

Balin coughed. 

Dwalin sighed and unslung the chicken carrier from his back. He extracted Chicken and held it out for his brother. 

“Do I want to know why you have a chicken swaddled like a babe?” Balin’s eyes were sparkling and the corners of his mouth were twitching, but he managed to keep a straight face. 

“I…there was…shut up.”

“Very eloquent. I suppose you’ll be keeping your chicken?”

Dwalin cuddled the fluffy bird against his chest. “It has a name you know.”

“Is it Chicken?”

“Yes. How did you…”

“We’ll need supplies then, won’t we?”


	8. The Consequences of Stealing While Inebriated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the story - but this time from Nori's point-of-view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sparkle made me do it. Again, written for the HobbitCon Fanfiction Project, the story how Nori acquired a chicken :D

“Did you hear what that guard Dwalin said about you?” Vokkin asked, taking another gulp of his third ale, which was close to being empty. It was early evening, the sun probably only about to set outside the tavern, and Nori was still nipping on his first beer, as he still wanted to work later tonight. But Vokkin had wanted to celebrate his latest haul, and Nori never said no to a drink that he didn't have to pay himself.

Until now, Vokkin had mostly boasted about how successful he had been in the last weeks, which made Nori hide a yawn once or twice. He liked some of his fellow thieves and poachers, but Vokkin was a bragger. However, he was also an endless source of the newest gossip and tittle-tattle.

And everyone knew about Nori's and Dwalin's little … feud.

“Well, what did the oversized, muscle-brained guardsman claim this time?” Nori asked, taking a deeper swig of his beer. Dwalin liked to insult him, even when he wasn't within ear-shot.

“That you were the worst thief in Middle-earth.”

Nori almost spit out his beer, and ended up choking on the bitter liquid. Vokkin slapped him on the back, and after a few deep breaths, Nori finally found his voice again.

“What?”

Vokkin grinned. “Worst thief. Always gets caught, and never actually manages to steal something.”

Nori tried to find words, but his mind was empty. Mahal's blessed balls, Dwalin had _never_ stooped that low before. He had already insulted Nori many times, mostly accusing him of being stupid and a slow slug, once even going so far as calling Nori's hair ugly – which had already hurt like a stab to the chest. But never, never had Dwalin said anything about Nori being bad at his job.

He needed a conscious movement to close his mouth again, realising he must have looked like a fish out of water until now.

“I need another beer.”

* * *

A few hours and at least three more beers later found Nori standing on the street corner opposite the guardhouse. He had tried to drink away his anger about Dwalin's insult, but it hadn't helped at all. Vokkin had made a comment about taking vengeance, and Nori's mind had come up with a brilliant plan.

He would steal something from Dwalin.

One of his axes, his favourite belt, his left shoe: Something that the guard would notice in the morning and that he could parade in front of him with a big, shit-eating grin. An unmistakable proof that Nori was a proper thief and could steal even property from a dwarf who said that he slept with one eye always open.

Until now though, Nori had only waited. There had been still light in the window of Dwalin's room when Nori had left the tavern to saunter towards the opposite direction of his own home. But now, after another hour of standing in the cold, blowing on his fingers and trying not to fall asleep, he was sure that Dwalin had finally went to sleep.

Which meant that Nori only had to climb up the wall of roughly hewn stone, pick the lock of the window, and sneak inside.

Nori laughed quietly about that, because as far as he knew, the house that Dwalin usually lived in had walls of smooth rock and iron bars in front of every window. But rumour had it that the guard and his brothers were at each other's throat every time Dwalin came home late, so a few months ago he had moved into one of the spare bedrooms in the guardhouse.

This job would be ridiculously easy. Nobody thought that someone wanted to break _into_ a guardhouse, after all.

His body moved almost on its own, his fingers slipping into the smallest cracks, his feet in the thin leather boots supporting his weight even on the narrowest ledge.

About eight feet above ground, a piece of mortar crumbled right under his hands. For a short, frightening moment, Nori thought that he would fall. The world around him spun and teetered, but thankfully he managed to cling to the wall.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm down his fast beating heart, and realised that his last beer might have been too much, after all.

Still, he managed to reach the window, and the lock was really no hindrance for him. It swung open almost soundlessly, and Nori climbed onto the sill, crouching low to peek into the dark room behind it.

In the weak light that was coming from outside, he couldn't see much more than the desk right in front of him and the vague silhouette of a dwarf lying on a low bed. Otherwise, the room seemed sparsely furnished, with a chunky wardrobe in the corner and rack for his weapons. The glint of metal was like a beacon for Nori, and as silent as the night wind, he sneaked into the room.

He managed to avoid stepping on the paperwork lying on the desk, and his feet touched the floor without a single creak coming from the wood. Nori quietly crept closer to the weapons rack, trying to decide which axe he would take and –

Suddenly found himself lying on the floor, all air chased out of his lungs from the force of his fall.

He had actually tripped on something and hadn't been quick enough to catch himself. Damn, and he definitely hadn't fallen quietly.

Nori looked towards the bed, but by some miracle, Dwalin's breathing had not changed, and there was nothing indicating that the guard was waking up. He breathed in deeply, turned back to get his prize – and was suddenly met with a chicken gazing at him.

He blinked, but the animal didn't vanish. The round, staring eye was even visible in the shadows of the room, and Nori could hear the low clucking sound that these birds made.

“Hello,” he whispered, cursing himself the moment the word left his lips. Which idiot talks to a chicken?

A drunk idiot who just ruined the easiest job in the world by falling over said chicken.

Nori bit back a curse and tried to move towards the weapons rack, trying to get at least what he'd come for, but was stopped as the chicken fluttered right into his face, scratching at his forehead with it's claws and making an awful lot of noise.

“Shush, don't...!” Nori managed to grab the chicken around its middle so it couldn't move its wings, but this didn't stop it from pecking at Nori's hair. He used that short moment of peace to wonder why in the name of the Seven Fathers Dwalin had a tame chicken in his room, but Dwalin decided that this was just the right time to groan and turn around on the mattress.

“Oh for Mahal's sake...” Nori whispered, looking around in panic. He was sure that the second he released the chicken, it would try to make a nest of his hair, and he couldn't hold the animal and an axe at the same time.

Which left him with only one choice: Steal the chicken.

He moved the chicken so it was tucked in tightly in his jacket, and climbed out of the window as quickly as possible without stumbling over his own feet.

Nori grinned widely as he made the descent. It might not be the thing he had wanted to steal, but he was sure that Dwalin would miss his little pet chicken in the morning just like he would have missed his axe.

**Author's Note:**

> the art was as always made by [Blue_Sparkle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle) :D


End file.
